


Prince of Harlan

by mogwai_do



Category: Justified
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd and Ava shooting the breeze. Set end of Season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince of Harlan

Ava heard the returning pick-up, but she didn't look up from her seat on the porch until she heard the soft sounds of Boyd's slow steps on the stair. "Look at you: Crown Prince o' Harlan. It's yours, Boyd; everyone knows it."

Boyd paused halfway up, "Ava, how much have you had to drink?"

Ava tipped her glass in mock salute, "Not nearly enough tonight." She dropped her head as if it were too heavy to hold up any longer and looked up at him through her lashes. "Whyn't you take it Boyd?"

"Take what, Ava?"

"Anything. Everything. Everyone knows you could if you wanted it. Don't you want it?"

Boyd looked down, looked away, but Ava could see his thoughts as if they hung in bubbles above his head.

"Raylan couldn't stop you, you know. Raylan _wouldn't_ stop you."

Boyd looked at her then, "I think you over-estimate any influence I have over the good Marshal Givens." His eyes slid to the glass in her hand and she moved it away as if it weren't already out of his reach.

"I don't," she said, sounding more sober than she had all evening. "I saw you, y'know."

"Saw who, Ava?"

"You. You an' Raylan. Way back when. After the cave-in." She smiled at the liquor in her glass and took another sip before looking up at him again. "I'd snuck out o' my Daddy's house an' I was lookin' for Bowman. I found you an' Raylan instead." She took another sip, but it wasn't the liquor that brought the heat to her face. "I remember thinkin' your legs were too long, or his hips were too small, or somethin'. Made it look all wrong, but I had to keep watchin' so I could know why."

"That was a very long time ago, Ava."

She laughed like the tinkle of broken glass, "Ain't nothin' long enough ago in Harlan, Boyd, you know that."

"I suppose I do," he agreed softly and he accepted the glass she poured for him.

"Did your Daddy find out? Is that what happened?" Because it had been the talk of the town for months when the two best friends had up and left, going their separate ways, one for the Army and one for college and the Marshal Service.

Boyd didn't even blink, "My Daddy suspected, but he never knew for sure."

And that was it: that was why Harlan was Boyd's for the taking, why Mags Bennett didn't contest it, why everyone was waiting. There wasn't a soul in Harlan County who hadn't been scared of Beau Crowder: he’d been ruthless, brutal and sharper than the best hunting knife; no-one crossed him or second-guessed him, at least, not twice. Boyd had his Daddy's ruthlessness and his violence, and he had to be even sharper to have hidden him and Raylan from Beau, but he'd have just become a carbon copy of his Daddy if Raylan hadn't shot him. Everything had changed then, for all of them; all bets were off.

Boyd was coming into his own now, heir apparent to Harlan County; he'd been a thief and a murderer, a soldier and a preacher, a martyr and a pariah. He could be anything he wanted and everyone was waiting, holding their breath, to see what that would be. Ava knew they wouldn't be waiting much longer. 

She was closer to him than most and even she had no idea what Boyd was becoming or what his plan was, but she didn't doubt for a second that he had one. She looked at him, standing still as a statue on her steps; the setting sun cast deep shadows on his face and she couldn't read him at all. She slid along the seat in invitation and after a moment he came to life, taking the offered seat, careful not to stray closer to her than propriety allowed. She wondered if he were consciously emulating Raylan's manners or if it were merely coincidental; it was less obvious now than it had been then when they’d been two lanky, leggy boys living in their fathers’ shadows, but for all their differences the two of them could be very alike.

"I should hate you, Boyd," she murmured into her drink, "I used to."

Boyd shrugged, "Some days I would agree with you."

"I don't though, not anymore."

"Why thank you, Ava."

"His ass is still a mighty fine handful, you know?"

"I don't doubt it for a minute."

"When his wife leaves, do you think he'll come back?"

"I honestly don't know, Ava."

She swayed into him, nudging his shoulder with her own in an almost affectionate manner and Boyd smiled faintly, self-deprecatingly.

"If you were King o' Harlan, he'd stay."

"Only because he'd be trying to arrest me or shoot me, Ava."

She smiled, "He'd still be here though."

And Boyd had no answer to that. They finished the bottle in companionable silence and watched as the sun set behind the mountain.

FIN


End file.
